In A Pickle
by Rachel-Eyes
Summary: Two years after the movie, Vanellope is a little older and is beginning to realize that she may have a bit of a crush on Ralph. She feels really confused and awkward about her feelings, but really can't earnestly talk to anyone about it except for the one person from whom she wants to forever keep it a secret.


_**Disclaimer:** Wreck-It Ralph and all related titles, characters, etc. are owned by The Walt Disney Company and have no affiliation with me whatsoever._

_**Author's Note:** Well, here it is! The first fanfiction that I have written in at least six or seven years. It was intended to be simply a fill over at the Disney Kink Meme, but since it's the first time I've tried writing in so long, I'm still really stupidly proud of it. (For that reason, this may end up being edited a few times.) As for the story, I've got to say that I really love Ralph and Vanellope's friendship and found it really cute and inspiring. Even without one-sided shipping which I definitely support, I just think their relationship is so cute so it made an obvious first choice in terms of fills._  
_Also, for the curious, the prompt is here. . ?thread=5328172#t5328172_

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It had been 2 years since she had first met Ralph, and Vanellope, now 11, found herself in quite a pickle. Perhaps this wasn't exactly a good thing since pickles don't go very well with anything that could be found in the Sugar Rush game where she lived and played. They aren't something that you really see that often in video games anyway so they were quite uncommon to come by in most gaming worlds. That didn't really bother Vanellope at all- pickles were gross! Blech. Why does that expression even exist anyway, in a pickle?

Ralph liked pickles. During the week when the place was child-friendly, he would sometimes take her to Tapper's for a root beer float. Of course the restaurant would turn into a full bar on weekends, so there was always greasy food ready when they would come in on nights when they were there to fill their bellies as much as to spend time with each other. In genuine bar fashion, a Tapper burger was usually quite huge, often so huge that Vanellope couldn't quite finish hers. Scraps usually went to Ralph, but even when the nagging in her stomach was great enough to swallow the whole plate, there was one thing she could never even touch- and that was the pickle spear. Sheesh, what was even the point if they weren't even going to put it on the burger? Thankfully, she had Ralph. She knew she could count on him to eat the pickle.

She could count on him for a lot of things, though she could never verbally admit that. It's way more fun to affectionately pick on the people you love the most anyway, and her Duty McBoogerFace was pretty much the only one who understood that. Even still, her true appreciation for him must have been on the brain a few months ago when all of this trouble started.

She found herself watching him.

The way he ate seemed really funny to her just the last year before, when she was 10. For such a big guy, he took very delicate, very slow bites. He did not ravish his food like she did, but finished it off with a certain kind of daintiness. Of course, at 10, she found this quite hilarious.

"You eat more like a princess than I do, Booger-Butt."

With a gentle sip of soda, he simply said, "I just like to enjoy my food, is all. You've never had to go hungry, being a princess and all."

"President," she corrected.

"Whatever, Lint-Licker" he said with a smile, and went back to finishing the last half of the burger that was too large for her.

But not on that night. They both had been tired from shenanigans in Sugar Rush, so whether their lack of focus was due to hunger or fatigue wasn't important.

And Vanellope, though she knew it was often dangerous to her, ended up daydreaming. About nothing in particular, she would tell you.

Ralph must have not really been paying attention either, because he seemed to not notice the young girl's little episode, or the faint, pixelated twinkle that flashed in her eye. As he reached for the pickle, Vanellope found herself staring at his mouth. She had never noticed how soft it looked, how pillowy his lips truly were. She watched them nibble around the pickle, sucking lightly at the juices, and the way his tongue slowly licked away a speck of ketchup which left behind a moistness. Something about the way those lips puckered gently at the sourness suddenly made even his stubble all the more obvious to her. Her Stinkbrain, without even so much as a warning, suddenly became less of a cool older dude and more like, well, a cool older dude.

She unexpectedly felt the warmth of her cheeks turning pink. Why was she blushing? That was stupid. And besides, it was only Ralph. Thankfully it was too dark in there for him to see her, but really, Vanellope, what's up with that? That was several months ago and should have been forgotten by now, but that was also around the time the dreams began. Ask Vanellope and she would tell you that they were dreams about nothing, dreams about candy and rainbows and unicorns and pink. Normal 11-year-old girl dreams, nothing more.

Except that that was a total lie. They were dreams about Ralph and she knew it. Dreams of those arms and the way they would snuggle her tight, and how safe she felt while she was there. Dreams about his skin, how calloused and rough his hands and feet were from years of climbing and wrecking, yet the tenderness of his cheeks and shoulders that were often moist with a gentle spray of sweat. Not that she wasn't touching his cheeks and shoulders for anything but hugging of course, at least not at first. There were no kissing dreams, what are you nuts? Vanellope Von Schweetz, stooping to the level of icky mushy goo goo-ness? It was simply unheard of, unimaginable!

But all blatant lying aside, this truly was a dilemma. Because she had dreamt that she kissed Ralph. Several times. Though she had occasionally wondered what it would be like to kiss someone, the idea had never popped up in her dreams before. His lips were so tender, his face so soft. It was wonderful. It was frightening.

Did… did she have a crush on her friend?

Naw, that's stupid. An Awesome McCoolpants like Vanellope having a silly little crush on her poopyhead Ralphie? Well, having a crush at all, really. It had to happen sometime, she guessed, but Ralph? That's laughable on its own. No, it simply was not true!

At least, she thought, if she believed strongly enough that it wasn't true, then it wouldn't be. Even if it just might take a little bit of work.

Like the one time when they simply hung out in Sugar Rush, not doing anything particularly interesting, just kind of sitting in the candy cane tree talking. For no reason at all she could feel the pink coming back to her cheeks. It felt hot, and it felt stupid. It was like it happened just from being around him. She never used to do that before, but she didn't want to think about it. She just wanted to run. To run away from the person who she cared about the most, from her best friend, from the person who saved her from misery.

Except that this time he noticed her uncomfortableness, and she knew it. She fidgeted a bit with the strings of her hoodie and tried to hide her shame behind her hair. He definitely saw her. She knows he did. And for the first time in her entire life, she honestly could not think of anything to say.

"Kid, are you okay?" He started to cover her back with his palm out of comfort, but that just made her blush harder.

She couldn't take this anymore. It had to stop now.

"Ralph, when did you start noticing girls?"

She immediately winced, and hated herself for it. "That's not how you do it, stupid!" said her brain.

As for Ralph, the question had caught him off guard. But then, he caught himself stifling back a laugh. Vanellope had an innocent little crush on one of the racers in Sugar Rush! Either that, or another little boy that she had met sometime in the game station. How cute! Still, he wished he would have realized sooner that since she didn't really have any other adult role models besides him, that he may have had to be the one who would have to give her the birds and the bees talk.

Oh boy. How does one exactly… approach this?

"Gee, uh, I don't know, I was probably about your age?" he said. Vanellope still couldn't look him in the eye. She hated herself too much for making this awkward.

"I don't know what to do. I don't want to feel this way." At this point, she pulled her hood over her head, turning redder, and more fearful. There's no way that he can know. She could lose him! She would have to find a way to get some answers on how to stop this before he could find out it was him. Think fast, Vanellope.

Think fast, Ralph. How was it that Mama explained it now?

"Well, there isn't anything wrong with how you feel. It's natural. It just means that you're…" He stopped, trying to think of the right word, and then spread his fingers out in appropriate fashion. "You're _blossoming_."

"But I wanna stop it!" She finally turned around to look at him, but fixed her glance on her nose rather than looking at him straight in the eye. "He… he'll think I'm stupid and then he'll laugh at me and won't be my friend anymore."

"If he does that, I will wreck his face. But he won't, because he will love who you are. Who wouldn't love you?"

She decided on the first lie that came to her mind.

"It's Swizzle Malarkey," she spurted. She did think he was cute, but she did not feel the same kind of affection for him that she did for Ralph. "I'm just afraid that the other racers would make fun of me if they knew I went soft. So yeah. How do I stop? Ralph, I'm really in a pickle here."

Ralph rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He really wasn't the best to ask for this kind of advice since most of the women he had chased in the past were protagonists and decided that a hero/villain relationship just "wouldn't work." Let's see, how should he word this now?

"Well, you don't have to tell him or anything."

"Pshhhht, not a chance of that," she scoffed under her breath.

"No, I mean, you can keep it a secret until you're ready to tell him, just as long as you don't forget the most important rule." She finally looked up and met his gaze.

"What most important rule?"

"Just be yourself. Because who you are matters more than how cool you want him to think you are." He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug. "Because you _are_lovable. You are smart and funny and," he paused a bit for emphasis, "you are a very pretty young girl."

She could feel the blood coming back to her face, but she chose to ignore it this time. She was pretty! Ralph thought she was pretty! "Really?"

Whatever he said next she did not quite hear. She was busy enjoying the rush of the compliment. It washed over her heart like a wave of warm chocolate, or some kind of carbonated drink that fizzed in the pit of her stomach. She grinned at the thought. And best of all, she got the compliment without even telling him her secret!

"Hey Stinkbrain?" she said finally.

"Hmmm?"

She climbed herself out of the embrace of his hands and got close enough to plant one tiny, sweet kiss on the bone of his cheek. "I love you," she said.

Though surprised by the swiftness of the motion as well as the fact that she had never done anything like that before, his big ol' bad heart melted at the warmth. It was innocent- she was only 11, but it felt nice to be someone's hero. Someone's friend.

"Hey Stinkybutt, what do you say we go get a root beer float."

"And a burger," said Vanellope with a wink. "You can have the stupid stinky pickle!"


End file.
